The Best Birthday Ever
by Alias III
Summary: Yes, it's been done. But, Sirius shows up for Harry's fifteenth birthday.


A/N: Well, I could lie and say this is my second fic, but I won't. At least I remember an A/N at the start of this one, heh. This just happens to be the second one I've actually posted, though something tells me most people don't care about that.  
  
Anyway, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but at page eleven (w/o the spaces between paragraphs), I realized I should do this in two parts. Part I is fifteen pages in this format. Um . . . as the summary says, this has been done many times. I took great pains to keep the characters (all two of them) in character. It's mostly plotless. Sirius just stops by for a few hours. The eyebrow thing is of my own invention, as it just seemed to work. Um . . . oh, it's pretty obvious where the title comes from. I doubt that part's original either. Heh.  
  
Well, if you note any plot inconsistencies or character problems or anything that doesn't coincide w/ canon, please tell me. Oh, I'm a grammar Nazi, so if you note spelling/punctuation/grammatical errors, please tell me about those, too. Of course, nice comments are always welcome ^_^  
  
Oh! If you happen to know how to do italics w/o turning the document into an html file, that'd be most appreciated advice, too! I could put it into html, and it wouldn't be that tough, but it'd be annoying.  
  
Don't know when I'll finish the rest of it and post again. I'm terribly inconsistent, just fyi. Yes, yes, I'll stop rambling now.  
  
~~Part I~~  
  
Harry woke with a start, staring wide-eyed into the dark. Pale yellow light snuck in through the windows, reminding Harry that he wasn't in Gryffindor tower, but on Privet Drive. He grabbed his glasses and put them on, but the light wasn't enough for him to see anything beyond the vaguest outlines of his desk and dresser. He heard movement and dove to turn on the lamp, his heart leaping into overdrive. Then he hesitated in turning to inspect his room for intruders. Cedric's face hung before his mind's eye, and Harry didn't want to turn and find his ghost. He'd dreamed of nightly visitations by the boy's spirit more than once already.  
  
He nearly leapt out of his skin at a sharp tapping on his window pane. Hedwig gave an impatient hoot, and Harry sighed in relief.  
  
He opened the window, and she flew in, carrying a box and a letter.  
  
"Hullo, Hedwig," Harry said, finding his fears dispelled by her company. He was able to go to his bed, where she stood with her beak raised, waiting for him to relieve her of her burdens. Harry obliged, grinning as he recognized Hermione's handwriting.  
  
The clock on his bedside said it was twelve fourteen am, and he knew the date without looking at his calendar. He'd been fifteen for a full fourteen minutes without even noticing.  
  
His grin faded at the memory of the dream that had woken him to begin with, and the image of Cedric's dead body.  
  
Hedwig hooted gently, bringing him back to the present, and he forced a smile.  
  
"Well, you're not fifteen every day, are you?"  
  
He opened the letter first and read Hermione's neat script.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I hope the Muggles aren't being too horrible. School starts in another month, and Ron says they're going to invite you over soon. Mum and Dad want to go to France to visit my uncle at the end of the month, so I may be going to the Burrow for a week, as well.  
  
Hedwig came to me yesterday. I think she knew I needed to send your present. She couldn't carry the present and a cake, so I only sent the present. I'm sure Ron and Sirius will send you a cake each, so I didn't think you'd mind very much. If you need anything else to get you through the summer and your cousin's diet, though, just send word.  
  
Have a very happy birthday.  
  
With love, Hermione  
  
Harry couldn't help but notice the triviality of Hermione's note. Only Sirius had seemed willing to offer even the barest mention of the Third Task and the growing threat outside. Ron sent the occasional cheer-up note with some of Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but he danced around the more important issues, as well. Sirius's letters were infrequent and vague, and Harry didn't want to say too much in complaint and worry his godfather. The man was already back in England because of him.  
  
"You'll at least listen to me, won't you?" he asked Hedwig, who nipped gently at his finger. He smiled a little. "Thanks for going to Hermione."  
  
Hedwig hooted again, raising her beak into the air as though to dismiss this gratitude.  
  
"You're the best owl I've ever met, you know."  
  
Harry grinned as Hedwig looked at him, hooting in a faint, flabbergasted sort of way, if that was possible for an owl.  
  
A ball of fluff whizzed past his ear then, and a much larger feather duster crashed in a heap on the floor, just missing Harry's bed. Harry went first to Errol, who carried a cake-sized box, though he and it had tumbled over upon impact with the floor. Carefully untangling the poor, old owl from the box and strings, Harry carried him to Hedwig's cage and set the cake on his desk. Then he went to his bed and caught Pig, cursing only a little as the tiny owl pecked at him and tried to fly away in his excitement. Pig's parcel contained a letter and a small, wrapped package. Harry opened the letter first.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Mum sent an owl to Dumbledore, and he said you could come and stay soon. Mum and Dad say we'll come to get you sometime this week, whether the Muggles like it or not. I'll send an owl when we know when we're coming. Oh, and Mum says Fred and George aren't allowed to come this time. Too bad. They've really cooked up some great tricks this summer. I can't imagine what they'd use on that great lump of a cousin of yours. And Mum's not supposed to know what they've been doing. I'm not sure where they got the money, but they assure me it's nothing dodgy. I'm not sure if I should believe them. Anyway, Percy's been talking about moving out. I think he's bracing Mum and Dad for when he does finally decide to do it. He's finally admitting he has a girlfriend. She might be over while you are. She's that Ravenclaw Ginny caught him kissing during our second year, Penelope something. Happy birthday and don't let the Muggles get you down. I'll owl you as soon as I know when we're coming.  
  
Ron  
  
Harry smiled and went for the presents from his two best friends, but stopped when he heard another owl come through the window. This one landed gracefully on his bed, holding its preened head high and hooting with supreme dignity. Instead of her usual indignant pose, though, Hedwig just looked at the intruder unconcernedly. He was a large tawny, and carried a box slightly too small to hold a cake, and he wasn't a school owl.  
  
Curious, Harry set down Hermione's present and untied the package from the new owl's leg. The owl took to Hedwigs cage, but she didn't do anything about it except look down her beak at him.  
  
A note attached to the mysterious package held only three words. "Free of charge."  
  
With a frown and a little anxiety (could this be some Death Eater trick?), he opened the package. His worry turned to a laugh as he saw the fake wands, brightly colored taffies, and an assortment of other Weasley Wizard Wheezes, some of which he assumed to be brand new.  
  
"Hello, Harry."  
  
Harry nearly leapt from his skin. Several taffies spilled over the bedspread as he spun to look out the window.  
  
"Sirius!" he hissed. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Sirius's head and shoulders were visible over the windowsill, and he grinned. "Got lost on my way to Hogwarts."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, grinning.  
  
"I told you you'd see me soon," Sirius said. "Happy birthday."  
  
Harry got up and went to the window and found Sirius riding an old broom that shuddered, even at only two stories in the air. His godfather had a bag slung over his shoulders that looked like it carried a cake and another package.  
  
"How'd you find me?"  
  
Sirius shrugged. "I've been to the neighborhood before. Then it was just a matter of following the owls."  
  
Harry followed Sirius's gaze to the four owls fighting over one water dish.  
  
"It's pretty normal for July the thirty-first."  
  
Sirius looked like he wanted to say something to that, but thought better of it and said instead, "You might want to back up. This broom would be an antique if it didn't belong in a junkyard."  
  
Harry backed up and watched with approval as his godfather maneuvered the remains of a Comet Two-sixty through the window, compensating for the broom's shaking and temperamental nature.  
  
Sirius dismounted and looked at the broom with disdain. "I remember when Remus got the thing. We were still in school. It's a miracle it got me here. But Buckbeak would have been too conspicuous." With a shrug, he set the broom aside, evidently forgetting its existence as he grinned at Harry. His robes had been cleaned and the holes had been darned (Harry suspected by Professor Lupin), which did a lot for his appearance. "Fifteen!"  
  
Harry smiled, as well. Standing there looking at his godfather in his bedroom on Privet Drive, felt very surreal. Even so, his dreams and fears faded to the background.  
  
"You'll be wanting your cake, of course." Sirius reached into the bag and produced a white, cake-sized box.  
  
"Thanks." Harry took it and set it beside Ron's. When Sirius raised an eyebrow in expectation, Harry opened the box, surprised to find candles set in the icing.  
  
"Fifteen of them," Sirius informed him, producing a pack of matches. He pulled out a match, lit it, and proceeded to light the candles. Once he'd finished, he stepped back. "Well, make a wish."  
  
Harry looked at him, wishing he could do that one-eyebrow trick Sirius did so well when appraising someone's sanity.  
  
"Yes, you have to," Sirius said. "We're doing things properly this year. And you can thank Remus for saving you the indignity of those little cone- shaped party hats."  
  
Sirius grinned, but Harry didn't doubt his sincerity. In the interest of keeping as much wax as possible off of his cake, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles in one breath. On retrospect, he thought he should have wished that Voldemort didn't become powerful again, but his actual wish felt far more appropriate. If Sirius's name was cleared, Harry didn't doubt that facing Voldemort would be easier. And besides, why did he have to think about the Dark Lord tonight? It was his birthday, and this time, his godfather was there, too.  
  
Harry set to work pulling out the candles and licking the chocolate frosting from them while Sirius produced a knife, two plates, and two forks, and started cutting the cake.  
  
"Couldn't bring ice cream, unfortunately. Wouldn't fit in the bag."  
  
"This is fine. This is great," Harry assured.  
  
Once the cake had been cut, Sirius invited himself to sit on Harry's bed, while Harry sat in the chair at his desk.  
  
"How's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, taking a bite of his cake--chocolate with chocolate fudge between the three layers, chocolate frosting, and chocolate shavings.  
  
"Fine," Sirius answered through the massive chunk of cake in his mouth. He swallowed. "I think he's glad to have me out of the house for the night, even if I do run the risk of being caught. He's not used to long-term house guests, and his place is pretty small."  
  
"And the, er, old crowd?"  
  
Sirius glanced sidelong at him, but didn't pause in inhaling his cake. "Everyone knows what they need to know for now."  
  
Harry nodded and looked down at his cake, having expected to get about as much information.  
  
"I exchanged a few owls with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Sirius said. "I think Ron filled them in. They seem like good people. It's good to know they're looking after you." Sirius's tone didn't sound too happy about the fact, though Harry knew it had nothing to do with his opinion of the Weasleys as people. "So, how're you doing?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Privet Drive is all right. The Muggles are still terrified you'll show up and turn them into frogs, of course."  
  
Harry grinned, and Sirius returned it. After a moment of silence, though, both smiles faded.  
  
"I think Dumbledore told them a little about what happened." Harry knew he didn't have to specify which event or when it took place. "So they pretty much just ignore me."  
  
"Lily always complained bitterly about her sister. I never realized how much she was understating the woman's horrible nature."  
  
"It's not so bad."  
  
Sirius cocked an eyebrow again, showing that he very clearly disagreed.  
  
"Besides, I just got a letter from Ron," Harry went on. "He said that they're going to come to get me sometime this week, whether the Muggles like it or not. I don't even know why I have to come here at all."  
  
Harry watched Sirius, who only scraped the last of the frosting from the bottom of the plate and stood, as though he hadn't heard this last comment. "Do you mind if I have another piece of cake?"  
  
Harry glared at him. "Fine, don't explain anything to me."  
  
Sirius helped himself to another massive piece of cake, even though Harry hadn't okayed it. "You know how Dumbledore is about some things."  
  
"Taking lessons from him, then, are you?"  
  
"No, not at all. Dumbledore just tells you straight out that he won't tell you about something. I prefer the more subtle approach. Which reminds me. You still haven't answered my original question. How are you?" Sirius didn't return to the bed, but looked at Harry expectantly.  
  
Harry shrugged again, looking down at his plate. "I'm all right, I guess."  
  
Sirius didn't say anything, but he did sit on the edge of Harry's bed, facing his godson and leaning forward instead of reclining in his previous and more lax position. "You could say that with a laugh and a skip and I wouldn't believe you."  
  
Harry didn't know how to reply to that. He didn't want to admit to all the bad dreams he'd had, or the hours he'd laid awake because he'd heard something outside. How could he tell Sirius that he was afraid? He'd been all right at Hogwarts, but each passing hour on Privet Drive made him wonder more what invisible defenses could possibly protect him from Voldemort. Unfamiliar faces on the street made him nervous, even as he tried to tell himself that he was over reacting, that he lived under Dumbledore's protections. But as the days went on and he didn't hear anything, know anything, the seclusion from the wizarding world drove him mad. How many times had he started to write to Ron or Hermione, asking for a copy of the Daily Prophet--any copy of any Daily Prophet--just to know what was going on in the world?  
  
"You are allowed to be scared sometimes, you know," Sirius said, looking a little uncomfortable.  
  
Harry still hesitated, trying to put something into coherent words. Finally, he came up with, "That's your real reason for coming, isn't it? To check up on me?"  
  
He hadn't meant to make it sound quite so rude, and he could tell by Sirius expression that it was received badly.  
  
Sirius stiffened, his face changing from looking as though he had been stung to becoming angry. Harry knew from experience the expression an adult got when they were about to put him in his place. "You may not have had parents most of your life, Harry, but--"  
  
"I didn't mean it that way!" Harry rolled his eyes, more at himself than anyone else. "I don't know what I mean, all right? I don't know anything. I don't know anything from the latest Quidditch results to what Voldemort is planning. I'm at the center of this, and I don't know a single thing! Voldemort has been trying to kill me since I was a year old, and I don't know a single thing about what's going on out there. And it's not like anyone is going to volunteer anything. Ron and Hermione write to me as though nothing ever happened, as though Voldemort isn't back. They avoid the topic at all costs. The Dursleys don't even admit when I'm in a room, much less discuss what happened during the Third Task. You're the only one who's had the gall to so much as mention any of it, and it's already my fault you're back in England at all. What am I supposed to say in a letter, anyway? 'Hey, how're you? I have trouble sleeping through the night without dreams about Cedric or Voldemort. Tell Professor Lupin hello for me. Harry.' That just doesn't quite seem to work, now does it?"  
  
Silence filled the room. Even the owls watched Harry without hooting or fluttering their wings. Although, he had to admit, the ability to rant was a little soothing. Sirius had made no move to stop Harry, and the anger had drained from his face. He watched Harry a moment, as though trying to make sure his godson had finished.  
  
"I have wanted to come before this. Perhaps I should have--"  
  
"No." Harry shook his head. "I can't even believe you came tonight."  
  
"But they're not going to catch me. If the Ministry starts to catch on to me, Dumbledore will hear of it, and he'll tell me. Besides, if three of us could learn to become Animagi right under Dumbledore's nose without his knowing, I say the Ministry hasn't a chance."  
  
Harry wondered if Sirius was trying to put his mind to ease in that one regard because he knew how much it mattered to Harry, or because it was the only fear he could honestly allay.  
  
"Yeah, you keep telling me that," said Harry.  
  
Sirius's sharp eyes scanned Harry's face. After a moment, though, he looked back at his cake. "Besides, things are well in hand right now. Dumbledore knows what he's doing. I think he's alerted everyone he can without letting on to the Ministry, and everyone is doing what they can."  
  
"And I get to sit here and wait for Voldemort to think up some way to get to me--again."  
  
"You weren't this cynical the last time we spoke."  
  
Harry sighed and started an unfelt apology, but Sirius shook his head.  
  
"No. You have a right to be a bit more cynical and sarcastic than usual. Look, I know this has got to be maddening. I never was good with sitting and waiting. I'd never have handled it as well as you have. But things are all right for right now. What needs to be done is being done. If I had it my way, your part would be over, but I know it's not, and I know you know it's not. Until whatever is going to happen happens, though, there's nothing to be done. Mrs. Weasley told me they're going to come for you in a few days, so you'll be back in the wizarding world, and among friends. You'll know about as much as the rest of us do."  
  
A few days. Harry could deal with that. It certainly gave him something tangible to look forward to. He couldn't think of anything more wonderful than returning to the Burrow. Well, nothing that was currently possible, at any rate, he corrected himself as he looked at Sirius. But even as much as he wanted to go to the Burrow, he wondered if he really should.  
  
"You know," said Harry, "I got my Hogwarts letter on my birthday."  
  
Sirius blinked, apparently confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Really?"  
  
Harry nodded, smiling. "Hagrid kept sending letters, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept trying to keep me from seeing any of them. Uncle Vernon thought that he could lose Hagrid, escape the letters. So we ended up in this little shack on a rock in the middle of the ocean in this terrible storm. And at midnight, Hagrid broke down the door and came marching in. Scared the Dursleys half to death. He even gave Dudley a pig's tail!"  
  
Sirius chuckled slightly at that, but Harry thought his eyes looked sad.  
  
"Anyway. He gave me my letter that night and told me all about my parents." Harry's smile widened at the memory as he looked down at his plate. "He even gave me my first birthday cake." He didn't want to see Sirius's reaction to that, so he continued to look down, and his smile faded. "I thought for a long time that I wouldn't trade anything at all for that night. I couldn't think of a single thing that would be better. And then Cedric died."  
  
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up a little when Sirius knelt before him.  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Harry. You can't feel responsible."  
  
"It was my idea that we would both take the cup. He was going to let me have it, but I had to be stubborn. I had to take him with me." No tears came to his eyes anymore. Perhaps he'd spent too long fighting them off, or perhaps he'd shed his fill. Maybe he just couldn't cry anymore. It didn't really matter.  
  
"Harry, your actions were noble. Never believe otherwise. You didn't know. No one knew. There was no reason you should have known, and no way you could have prevented it. You can't control everything, or everyone, and you can't be responsible for what other people do."  
  
"Maybe not." Harry didn't want to argue with Sirius on that point. He knew his godfather felt quite a lot of guilt over what someone else had done fourteen years ago. "But I can try to keep it from happening again, can't I? If I go to the Burrow, the Weasleys will be at risk. The Dursleys are at risk while I'm here. He's after me, and he's already proven that he doesn't care who he has to kill to get at me."  
  
Sirius gave Harry's shoulder a shake until he looked directly into his godfather's eyes, eyes that were seldom so alive, and always with sadness or fury.  
  
"Look, I know that you don't have a long history of relying on other people, but I also know you need your friends now, more than you ever have before. You can't face this alone, and there's no good reason for you to even try. They're all at risk simply because of who they are and what they believe. Everyone is at risk now. They're fighting Voldemort, too. They're your friends and already think of you as family. If you won't let them put themselves at risk for that, then think about it strategically, if that makes you feel better. By helping you, they're fighting Voldemort, and fighting Voldemort will always be a risk. In keeping you safe, they increase the chances of defeating him. But you know that's not why they want you there. It has nothing to do with Voldemort, and everything to do with the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would do no less for one of their own sons. Besides, if they let Voldemort scare them from what is right, then he'll already have won, won't he? We're fighting for a principle as much as for our lives. With every defiance of his terror, another small victory is made."  
  
Harry knew Sirius had thought through his arguments for a long while, possibly the last few days. He wondered if Professor Lupin had offered his thoughts on the subject, as well. Some of Sirius's words just hadn't sounded quite like his own, but more like something he agreed with, but hadn't thought of himself and couldn't put any other way.  
  
These idle conjectures aside, though, he had to admit that Sirius had a number of very good points.  
  
"That doesn't make things easier," Harry said aloud.  
  
Sirius shook his head. "No. I know you care a very great deal about them and want to protect them as much as they want to protect you. But distancing yourself won't do that. We can't be fractured like that, no matter what the risks are. None of us can take this battle upon his own shoulders."  
  
Sirius's hand left Harry's shoulder, and the convicted murderer sat upon the bed again, his eyes distant and shadowed. Harry wondered who could believe Sirius's alleged crimes if they ever saw him like this, grief- stricken and guilt-ridden. Who could convict him in these, his most unguarded moments, when the years seemed to weigh down upon him like iron chains, and all traces of the supposed vicious killer had fled from his countenance?  
  
"I'm glad you came tonight, Sirius," Harry said at random, and found it to be very true.  
  
Sirius looked up, his eyes still void and his face slack. "I've missed too many birthdays, too many Christmases."  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
Sirius looked like he was about to make a snide reply, so Harry kept talking.  
  
"And anyway, it's nice just to know there is someone out there that cares.someone I can think of as my own family, and not my best friend's. That's enough for now."  
  
A very slight smile tugged at the corners of Sirius's mouth. "Thanks, Harry, but--"  
  
"I'm serious. I like the Weasleys. I like them a lot. But they're Ron's family." Harry paused for a moment, thinking of how to say what he wanted to say without sounding.mushy. "It's nice just knowing I have my own family, too, even if it isn't anything even resembling normal." At this he smiled, hoping Sirius would find the last comment amusing more than anything else.  
  
And it worked. Sirius even managed a real smile, though he didn't say anything for a few minutes, although Harry thought he heard a quiet "Thanks." Sirius went back to his half-eaten piece of cake and made short work of it.  
  
"Are you going to eat that?" he asked Harry, eyeing the half of a piece still in Harry's hand . "Of course I am! Get your own!"  
  
"But if I do that, then half of the cake will be gone already," Sirius said as though the fate of the world rested on how much cake would remain.  
  
"I still have Ron's, and Hermione usually sends candy." He left out the detail that it was sugarless candy. "I still have two of Mrs. Weasley's pies, too. That'll get me through the next few days. Then I'll be at the Burrow, and Mrs. Weasley will make sure I have at least three helpings of every meal. Oh, and I even stocked up on candy before I left school, if you want any chocolate frogs or pumpkin pasties."  
  
Sirius's face lit up immediately. "You have pumpkin pasties?"  
  
Grinning, Harry went for his trunk and produced the bag of candy he'd so coveted the last few weeks. But what did it matter tonight? It was a celebration!  
  
"Oh! Cockroach Clusters!" Sirius said with such relish that Harry laughed and covered his mouth, realizing how loud they'd gotten. After a moment's silence, though, he heard the regular snores of all of the Dursleys and relaxed.  
  
"You have no idea how much I've missed cockroach clusters," Sirius said with a contented sigh.  
  
Harry finished off his piece of cake while Sirius plowed through half of the candy with such exclamations of joy that Harry couldn't help encouraging him to have more.  
  
"Moony's going to be mad if I have a stomach ache today. He told me before I left, 'Now don't make yourself sick. And don't let Harry make himself sick, either!'"  
  
"He did not," Harry said with a laugh.  
  
Sirius shrugged. "So he didn't. Sounded good." Then he bit the head off of a chocolate frog. "Do you collect the cards?"  
  
"I have a few. I've been looking for Archimedes."  
  
"Hm.Ptolemy. Got him?"  
  
"I think so, but I'll take another."  
  
"Hey, how about a game of chess?" Sirius asked, eyeing Harry's set in the open trunk.  
  
"We'll have to keep it down, but sure."  
  
Sirius set up the board, despite the objections of a knight who thought he was a "foul looking opponent," and they started to play what Harry thought would be a friendly game of chess. He realized his mistake in that assumption after Sirius had captured both knights, three pawns, and his queen, and Harry had only gotten a pawn. Harry suspected that Sirius had given up the pawn in order to make him feel better.  
  
"I should have told you no one in our year or a year older could beat me," Sirius said with an all too gleeful chuckle. "Check."  
  
"We haven't been playing for ten minutes!"  
  
"No, you can't move there. I can still get you with my knight. And it would have lasted longer if you still had a queen. That's not a very good move."  
  
"I'd still have a queen if you didn't excite half of my pieces into revolt!"  
  
"All part of the game. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"  
  
"That is not part of the game. And I can't do anything else."  
  
"Well, if you say so. And check mate."  
  
Harry blinked and stared down at the board. Sure enough, his king was trapped. Sirius's smug smile did not help his annoyance.  
  
"Next time, you play Ron," Harry muttered upon putting the pieces away.  
  
"If you want, we can play again, and I'll let you win."  
  
"No thanks."  
  
"Honestly."  
  
"That's all right."  
  
"But it's your birthday."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You should win at least once on your birthday."  
  
"Really. It's okay."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"Really, really sure?"  
  
"Yes, Sirius!"  
  
"No need to get snappish about it."  
  
"I'm not being snappish."  
  
"I detected snappishness there."  
  
"There was no snappishness."  
  
"I really think I heard snappishness."  
  
"Well, you're going to get a lot more than snappishness if you don't quit it!"  
  
"Quit what?"  
  
"That!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"SIRIUS!"  
  
Harry immediately clapped both hands over his mouth and glared at Sirius, listening intently for the Dursleys. He didn't think he could hear Uncle Vernon's deep, throaty snore.  
  
Sirius listened unconcernedly, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Uncle Vernon's snores rejoined the chorus.  
  
"You could have gotten me into a lot of trouble," Harry hissed.  
  
"What? From the Muggles?"  
  
"Yes, from the Muggles! There's no telling what they'd do if they found you and four owls and a bunch of cakes and presents in here."  
  
Sirius glib smile faded. "I thought you said they just ignored you."  
  
"They do, but only because I stay out of their way."  
  
Sirius's expression turned suspicious. "And what sorts of things do they do when you don't stay out of their way?"  
  
Harry tried an innocent shrug, realizing Sirius didn't know anything about the time they'd kept him prisoner in his bedroom, or how they used to keep him in the closet under the stairs, or how Uncle Vernon tended to vent his anger through his fists. Sirius seemed reasonably willing to look past the fact that the Dursleys weren't any sort of a family to his godson, and Harry suddenly wondered how much of that was just self control, and maybe a word or two of warning from Professor Lupin.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.  
  
"It doesn't matter. We didn't wake them up, anyway. Licorice wand?"  
  
"Don't try to change the subject. What would they do?"  
  
"Nothing now that they know I have a godfather who's a convicted murderer." Harry tried a grin. It didn't work very well.  
  
"Then what have they done in the past?"  
  
"What does it matter? That's in the past."  
  
"If your uncle has ever so much as laid a hand on you, I swear on Merlin's beard I'll--"  
  
"You'll what?" Harry countered. "You'll go in there and beat him up? Let him see you and possibly get you caught and get me into even more trouble, with both Muggle and Ministry law, too? Or maybe you'd rather use my wand and get me expelled from Hogwarts for using magic. And then when I tried to explain that it was actually Sirius Black, whom I was just enjoying a little birthday celebration with, the Ministry can still come after me. And I know Fudge would leap at the chance to catch you again and save his failing career. Then he could say that he's stopped all of the bad guys, gotten rid of the problem, and no one will be whispering about Voldemort anymore. How does that sound?"  
  
Silence rang through the little room, and Harry glared at Sirius, silently daring him to counter. Sirius's face changed between wanting to argue with Harry and accepting the infuriating truth that he could do nothing. It felt like a long debate, but reason finally won out, and Sirius glared daggers at the bedroom door.  
  
"Besides, the Weasleys are coming soon," Harry said softly.  
  
"Tomorrow," Sirius grunted.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They're coming tomorrow, whether they want to or not, whether Dumbeldore says it's all right or not."  
  
"Sirius--"  
  
But Sirius stood as though not hearing his godson. He went to Harry's desk to grab a quill and some parchment. After scribbling a quick note, he grabbed Pig from Hedwig's cage, tied the note to the minute owl's leg, and tossed him out the window. Then he paced for a few minutes, and Harry said nothing, hoping his godfather's anger would abate a little in the silence.  
  
Finally, Sirius flopped down on Harry's bed and stared up at the ceiling. 


End file.
